


Blueberries Underneath Blue Skies

by Living_Free



Series: Slip and Slide [24]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Batfamily, Clark being disrespected, Crack, Damian being protective over Jon, Dick 'Mother' Grayson, Domestic Fluff, Farmer's Wife Tim, Fluff, Humor, Kon's accent :D, M/M, The loving nicknames make a comeback, Tim in a sundress, Tim's domestic bliss, Ultimate Dad Bruce Wayne, Wise Martha Kent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-11-04 07:40:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17894273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Living_Free/pseuds/Living_Free
Summary: Tim is living his best life as a farmer's wife.Bruce is having none of it.Dick and Jason are surprisingly mature,and Ma Kent lays out the high couture.





	Blueberries Underneath Blue Skies

Martha 'Ma' Kent was a woman who lived with worry. Ever since Clark crash landed into her life, she had learned the true meaning of worry. When Clark saved the world, then another world, then some more, Ma Kent worried. Would her boy come home safe?

Ma Kent worried about the harvest. Would there be enough grain? She worried about the cows. Would Bessie recover fom her mastitis?

Ma Kent worried about Jon, already so strong and starry eyed - would the evil world steal the sparkle from her baby's eyes?

Ma Kent now greeted worry as an old friend, for she was a wise woman. 

Except no, not really. Worry was more like that one sister that you had, who knew that you had wanted mother's ornate tea set after she passed, but took it instead, even though she knew full well that mother had intended it to go to you, and now Thanksgiving dinner was fraught with tension because Kendra was a twit.

So it was with some surprise that Martha noticed that the knot of unease in her heart was uncoiling, as she watched Tim Drake help Kon shrug on his winter coat as her strong boy went out to graze the cows in the weak light of the early winter sunlight. 

Martha always worried about Kon, and made sure to give him the love she knew Clark could not give, even though he tried. Clark couldn't be Kon's father, but he was Kon's brother. Martha had worried about the lack of a father figure in Kon's life until Kon shyly told her that Lex was more than good enough job as a father.

Then, Tim had come into Kon's life - shy, sweet, clever, ruthless Tim - and Martha couldn't have asked for a better partner for her Kon. While Clark may have had misgivings about the relationship - Tim was a CEO, he was the richest boy on the planet - they all evaporated once they saw how devoted Tim was to Kon and to their love.

Too devoted, sometimes, Clark whined, but Martha just laughed. 

Now, seeing this fae-like boy bidding Kon goodbye, Martha felt a huge burden lift from her heart. Kon was happy, and safe with Tim, and he made Tim happy enough to float over the moon. They were perfect for each other, despite their day and night upbringings. 

Martha watched as Tim hummed happily to himself, and set about texting his father, the ever overprotective Bruce, about some shareholders meeting or the other that he was supposed to handle during Tim's annual leave. Such a responsible boy, Martha thought proudly. 

After texting Bruce, Tim flitted into the kitchen. "Hello Ma," he greeted her happily. Martha felt a burst of joy at the familiar address. 

"Timmy," she said, smilng fondly at the boy who was not yet hers. "Good morning, honey."

Tim shifted his weight from foot to foot, looking apprehensive. Martha waited paitently until Tim spoke. "I was wondering if you'd teach me how to bake a pie," Tim said in a rush. "I want to learn for Kon."

Martha beamed. "Of course, sweetie. What type?"

Tim's eyes misted over. "Blueberry," he said dreamily. "Kon loves blueberries."

Martha observed Tim for a minute before reaching into the cupboard and drawing out a pristine white apron with lacy frills. "My mother's apron," she said, handing it over to Tim. "I have been waiting to hand it over for a long time now."

Tim took the apron with the reverence it was due. "But Ma," he said, "what about Lois?"

"Oh dear, Lois doesn't really like to bake, not the way we do," Martha said. "She's more of a cook than a baker. Clark's the baker of the two."

Tim tied the apron around his waist. "I've never had a family heirloom before," he confessed. "My parents' stuff was all antique and delicate, to be seen and not touched. There was never any connection with them. Bruce has set aside heirlooms, I know, but he'll give them to us when we get married. Jason got a pearl handle knife from great-great-grandpa Wayne, and Dick got grandma Wayne's pearl earrings, because he actually has piercings."

"And what has Bruce set aside for you?"

"Dunno," Tim confessed, "he won't tell, and he said I'm not going to get married for a good long time yet. What does that even mean?"

Martha giggled, but mentally praised Bruce Wayne's hypervigilance. Not only Bruce, but Tim's siblings had also been recruited into the 'Keep Tim Pure' mission. For example, whenever Tim stayed over, Damian came along as well, ostensibly to 'train' (play) with Jon. They were in the barn now, brushing the horses. 

Martha was fairly sure that either Jason or Dick was in the tree out front, spying on them right now. She glanced out the window and- aha.

Dick was in the apple tree watching over Damian and Jon and blowing them little kisses, while Jason was in the pear tree signalling to Martha to save them some pie. Martha grinned and gave the boy a thumbs up while Tim's back was turned. 

When Tim had gathered all of the ingredients, Martha clapped her hands. "Alright, Tim, you ready, darlin'?"

Tim beamed, and they got down to work. "First, you have to work the butter into the flour with your fingers..." Martha instructed, and watched as Tim assiduously followed her every command. 

Tim was a marvel in the kitchen. He rolled, floured, poured, crimped and baked like he had been born into it. When the pie wa in the oven, Martha fixed him with a look. 

"Young man, you are covered in flour," she said, flicking his nose and getting a giggle in return. "Now run upstairs and make yourself presentable for breakfast. It's always important to start the morning off with a fresh look and attitude."

Tim frowned. "But all I have is my work clothes and my, er, patrol clothes."

Martha nodded knowingly. "That's fine, dear," she said knowingly. And boy, did she know. "I'll lay something out for you."

Martha was practically singing as she ran upstairs and laid out a lovely pastel blue sundress and matching pumps filched from Lois, and augmented the look with some of her own jewlery. A simple coral lipstick and a neck kerchief would set the look very nicely. Martha looked up from her work as she heard a knock on the window. Jason was hanging out of the apple tree with Dick, looking appraisingly at Martha's work.

"You're just fueling Timbo's dreams of being a farmer's wife," Jason said, taking in the ensemble. "He's Red Robin, leader of his Titans group, and CEO of Wayne Enterprises."

"He can be both," Martha said stoutly, looking proudly at her work. 

Jason watched Martha for a second before nodding. "I've always liked you, Ma," he said decisively. "Bruce would lose the plot if he knew of Tim's true motivations. You know that he's going to move in here after marriage, right? He's planning to commute to Gotham everyday and back. With Kon and a hypercar or ten at his disposal, it's easy."

Martha couldn't stop the squeal of joy that burst out of her. "Oh golly, I'm so thrilled!" She sang. Her little Konnie was going to stay on the farm and he and Tim would grow it for another generation! 

"They've got it all planned out," Dick piped up. "I heard Kon say that he got excepted to college to study agricultural sciences and business administration. They're going to grow the farm and export Kent-Wayne Farm Fruit Preserves all over the galaxy."

Martha dabbed at her eyes with ther apron. "Oh, I'm so proud," she whispered. 

"Apparently, Lex is making Kon do the double degree with business studies," Jason said. "He wants Kon and Tim to grow Lexcorp into an intergalactic company."

"I don't know what to make of that man, honestly," Martha said. "On the one hand, he and Clark despise each other. On the other, he loves Kon more than anything in the world. I couldn't believe that he gave up his villany just to be a father to Kon."

"I couldn't believe how chill he was about figuring out our identities," Dick said. "He's glad that Kon's dating Tim though. Something about brains and galactic corporate conglomerates."

"That's for a later date though," Martha waved them off. "For now, Timmy's made a pie all by himself!" 

"Ooh, save us a slice!" Dick said, like an enthusiastic squirrel. 

"You could just come in, y'know," Martha said. "I'm sure Tim knows y'all're here." 

"Sure, we'll take you up on that," Jason said agreeably. They heard the shower turn off, and quickly withdrew so that Tim could dress in privacy. 

Jason and Dick indeed took Martha up in the invitation and walkin in through the front door, claiming nonchalantly that Dick was missing Damian. It wasn't even a lie, because Dick had the emotional restraint the size of a pigeon's bladder. Damian was pleased, and smiled like the little affection-starved frog that he was. 

Kon had just walked in from the milking, and after cautiosly accepting Dick and Jason's presence, started setting up the breakfast table. Clark and Lois walked in as well, Lois pondering where her blue pumps had gotten to, and why the room smelt like pie - surely hey weren't eating pie for breakfast. 

"Tim made the pie," Martha said. Kon's eyes gleamed. 

Then, Tim walked in, and everyone fell quiet at the vision that entered the dining room. Tim looked dainty and gorgeous in Martha's handpicked blue sundress, his lips tinted the lightest shade of coral to offset his icy blue eyes, which were focused on Kon. Lois' kitten heel pumps, pracical yet elegant, adorned his feet and set off the look perfectly. 

He set the pie on the table, his eyes fixed dreamily on Kon, who stared back, enraptured. Jason was busy taking pictures and texting them to Bruce, who was having a fit far away in Gotham. 

"I've made you pie, Kon," Tim breathed. "Shall I serve you some?"

Immediately, Kon stood up and shoved Clark out of his seat, making place for Tim. "No, Timmy," he said, "I'll serve you first."

Dick and Lois sighed dreamily as Tim accepted Kon's hand and stepped over Clark to take a seat next to Kon. 

In Gotham, Bruce was breaking out into a rash. 

Kon served Tim a piece of pie, and then cut everyone else a slice. Slowly, he lifted a piece to his lips, and after a moment, unleashed the most orgasmic groan that no one should ever hear in public. "Oh, Timmy! You're - I mean - it's delicious!"

"Oh, Kon, my contented cucumber!"

"Tim, my talented tangerine!"

"My rugged rhubarb!"

"My elegant elderberry!"

"Enough!" Damian yelled, his hands clamped over Jon's tiny ears, looking disgusted and scandalized. "Such displays bring shame to the breakfast table! Rein in your excessive excretions of praise for each other at once!"

"Jay, did you record it?" Dick asked frantically.

"Every second of it," Jason whispered back. "Sending directly to the family group chat...now. There, Bruce should see it in just about-"

Everyone's phones pinged.

BRUCE: Timothy Wayne, you are in so much trouble young man. What have I told you about romance at the dining table!

BRUCE: Did you make that pie?

BRUCE: I am so proud of you Tim.

BRUCE: I think.

"Oh my god, Bruce doesn't know what to think! We broke Bruce!" Jason cheered. 

Tim and Kon paid no heed, too taken with each other and their little domestic dream. Martha glowed at her efforts coming to fruition. As long as Tim and Kon were happy, everything could take a seat on the backburner. 

Speaking of which - "Oh, pancakes!" Martha gasped, and ran to get the rest of the breakast dishes. Tim and Kon looked to be drowning in each other's eyes, inching their faces closer and closer, coming in for a kiss, until Clark's intervened and thrust his hand inbetween their lips.

"EW! Clark kiss!" Kon yelled, and rubbed his lips raw against the napkin, while Tim looked morose. Clark was also upset, because his brother had kissed his whole hand, gross, this day was getting off to a bad start. The next thing he knew, Luthor would show up at the door with a potluck.

*Ding dong*

Clark jumped. No! It couldn't be!

Jon opened the door to reveal not Luthor, Kon's second favorite parent, but rather Bruce, who had apparently teleported over from Gotham, judging by the speed that he got there. Bound to his chest was baby Terry, snoozing in a sling.

"How did you get here so quickly?" Clark asked, goggling. 

"I made Wallace give me a ride," Bruce grunted, before focusing on his son. "Timothy Wayne!"

"Daddy!"

"My baby!" Dick cried, and immediately scooped his son up. Everyone else relaxed, as they were all fair game when Dick said those words. "Bruce, why isn't Terry with Wally?"

"I told Wallace to continue an experiment I was forced to abandon to rein in Tim's hormones," Bruce grumbled. "Can't leave the baby in the lab."

Kon leaned over to get a good look at Terry, who was staring at his new surroundings happily. "Aw, he's a sweetheart," Kon drawled. "Dick, can I please hold him?"

"Of course," Dick said, handing Terry over carefully. Kon took Terry and stared at him as though he was a treasure. Gently, he placed the baby in Tim's lap. 

"Look Timmy," Kon whispered. "He's fallin' asleep in your arms."

"He's comfortable with us," Tim whispered back, looking at Terry, and then smiling up at Kon, who said, "I love you, Timmy."

Bruce flinched, not understanding how anyone could fall in love with a man who spoke such wonderful words and then butchered them to make them sound like "Ah lurve yeh, Timmeh''. 

But Tim, like an idiot, responded. "I love you too, Kon. Just think of it," he said, looking down at Terry. "In a few years, this could be us."

"Yes," Kon breathed ecstatically. 

"No," Bruce wheezed asthmatically. "Tim, we're going home."

"Bruce Thomas Wayne," Martha clucked, "stop getting inbetween these boys' love. Eat some pie, Tim made it himself." Bruce settled in with ill grace and looked surly, so Martha patted his arm. "Don't you worry your little head about the boys, now. It's not as though Tim can get pregnant now, can he?"

Tim, who knew full well that there was a spell to allow male pregnancy, knew that it was in Damian's grimoire, and had every intention of using it in his twenties, nodded innocently. 

Bruce grunted and settled down, none the wiser. He finally lifted his fork and dug into his slice of pie. After a contemplative chew, Bruce nodded. "This is very good, Tim," he grunted. "You're very talented."  
Tim beamed with the force of a thousand suns and hiked Terry up higher onto his shoulder, and addressed the baby. "Emotionally constipated grandpa likes Uncle Timmy's cooking," Tim informed the warbling baby. Terry reached out and dipped his hand into the oozing pie stuffing and brought it to his mouth. Tim preened as the baby giggled at the taste and offered his blueberry covered hand to Dick, who immediately combusted and took on his ultimate form - an unintelligible mass of cuteness that was formerly Dick Grayson. 

Bruce stared at his son, dressed in a blue dress with coral lipstick and looking the happiest that he had seen him in a long time. Bruce stood up on shaking legs and excused himself to the kitchen to get some water, and collapsed tiredly against the counter next to Martha. "I'm going to lose Tim, aren't I?"

Martha was a practical woman who had no time for foolishness. She smacked Bruce upside the head. "Bruce Thomas, don't be so ridiculous young man," she scolded. "Of course you won't lose Tim. You will gain a Kon."

"Egads."

"Tim is always going to be your little boy," Martha said gently, "and nothing will change that. Sure, he can move in with us after marriage, but ifyou think that'll stop him from being your child, then you are the saddest, most misinformed sack of manure that I have ever laid eyes on."

Bruce sniffed and stared into the void. "I thought that I would get to keep Tim with me forever. He's small and delicate and he needs me."

"And that's not likely to change," Martha laughed. "Why do you think that Clark lives here?"

Bruce wrinkled his nose. "Clark is the antithesis of small and delicate."

"No, but a mother worries," Martha said gently. "Lois was so good to agree to the commute, just as Tim plans to do. Not to mention," she giggled, "the commute consists of being carried to and fro in Clark's arms with the wind in her hair. Tim would enjoy that, I think."

"Clark is not getting his hands on my- oh, right, Kon-El," Bruce realized belatedly. "I suppose that could work."

Martha smiled and patted Bruce's bewildered head. "That's the spirit, dear," she said. "And I doubt that they're going to be here all the time. Timmy loves you too much to leave you, even for a week. They'll probably end up spending weekends with you."

Bruce smiled hopefully. "Yes, that'll be good."

"And their kids could grow up on the farm, and visit you in Gotham. Little Terry and Damian and all the rest that are to come can spend time with Uncle Timmy and Kon as well. It'll be good for them to have two homes."

Bruce seemed to have gotten a grip on himself. He stood taller and cleared his throat. "Yes, well. Thank you Martha," he said, "for helping me see the light."

"No problem dearie."

Just then, the rest of the family trooped in to wash the dishes. "Oh, ma?" Kon said.

"Yes honey-nugget?"

"Timmy 'n I won't be dinin' at home for dinner. We've told dad that we'd catch up with him."

"...dad?"

"Erm, Luthor."

This time, Bruce decided that he was completely justified in fainting away.


End file.
